I was falling dead in battle
Must have been Tuesday, I don't know the date
I gave everything everyone asked for
But I'll say where I'll be laid
The many dead of my comrades
All look the same in this place
Won't you bury me far from my uniform
So God might remember my face
Just bury me far from my uniform
From the iron cross medal I would've worn
From the statues that sisters and widows mourn
From the newspaper clippings in micro-form
From Geneva, the Hague, and Nuremberg
From the sex of this world that I'll no longer taste
Won't you bury me far from my uniform
So God might remember my face